


Backrub

by vintage_hippie23 (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America (Movies) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:33:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7083622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/vintage_hippie23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've been up for three days to meet a deadline. You're exhausted and you haven't eat. Chris comes over to make you relax and what starts out as a backrub turns into something a whole lot more. Oh and he cleans your house because this is fiction and Chris can be a little too perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backrub

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spazzgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spazzgirl/gifts).



> For the person who makes me laugh like no other!

  
"Ba-abe?" 

You were this close to finishing that commissioed piece when the door to your apartment opened and Chris' voice carried through the hall. It's deep and warm and you feel it as much as you hear it. 

"Sweetheart?" your bedroom opens and he pokes his head in, searching for you in the chaos your bed has become. A barricade of pillows, papers, pencils, and you sitting in the middle of it in the same tank top and shorts you've been wearing for three days. "Hey." 

He's a blur to your bleary, tired eyes. Tugging your glass off and dropping them in the chaos around you, you rub your eyes and yawn an exhausted, "Hi." 

"Your friend called me." Chris steps into the room, closing the door behind him. "She was worried about you. Said you haven't left your apartment for three days." 

"I'm working." 

You're slightly annoyed that she called him because you told her you had a deadline. You had to meet this deadline or risk losing your job, or at the very least, taking a pay cut you really couldn't afford. Not if you wanted to keep your apartment. 

"Y/N, you're tired, you haven't slept," the mattress dips under his weight and he catches the paper and pencils that slide his way. "And, you haven't eat anything in three days. This is not healthy." 

"I have a deadline, Chris." you mumble, scribbling a note for improvements in the margins. 

"You're a stubborn one." he teases. 

He doesn't mean to hurt your feelings. 

And, you know this but you're stressed and tired and you really can't help the tears that sting your eyes. It's been three days of non-stop work, you haven't had a chance to talk to him or touch him, and your muscles ache constantly and you really just do not need this. You don't want to do this. Not right now. A meltdown isn't going to help anything. 

"Chris - " 

"You're tired, Y/N." he shifts pillows and all of your other crap until he's on his knees behind you, strong hands on your sore shoulders. "You need to sleep and to eat and work on this later. Your deadline isn't for another week. You have plenty of time." 

His hands slip under your arms and you feel the warm press of his fingers into your ribs as he tugs you up into him, so your back is pressed against his chest. The reaction is almost immediately. You relax against him, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder, and your eyes close. He's warm and strong and hard in all the right places. 

"Lay on your stomach, baby." he murmurs, nuzzling the side of your head before releasing you and standing up. "Shirt off." 

"Okay." 

You pull your shirt over your head and toss it in the general vicinity of the laundry basket before stacking three pillows and collapsing onto the bed, hugging them tight to your chest. You bend one leg and despite your rather prone position, Chris continues with his task so either he hasn't noticed yet or is just too concerned to pay any mind. 

You hear him straighten up; stacking paper on your desk, pencils on top, and tossing blankets in the laundry basket before he nudges your legs further apart and settles between them. 

"Ready?" 

"Sure." 

He unclasps your bra and lets the band fall away before his hands get to work. Warm and rough and tender, they work over the muscles that have been aching almost constantly. It's relaxing and soothing but you've also gone three whole days without being touched by this man and quite frankly, you're feeling a little worked up. You whimper a little when he touches a tender spot and his hand presses harder. You can't help but move your hips a little, seeking friction and relief from the ache that's throbbing between your legs. 

"You like this?" he growls, all low and hot and your hips move a little more. "You like my hands on you?"

"Yes." 

It's barely a whimper. His hands just feel so good and his mouth is hot on the back of your neck, kissing and sucking. Hips move faster, harder, rubbing into the mattress. His hands slip underneath you, cupping your breasts. Warm, rough hands rubbing nipples and massaging flesh.

"Chris." 

"All fours." he growls. "Now." 

Oh. 

You lift your hips up and dig your elbows into the mattress as he leans over you and his hips roll against yours. Obviously, it'd had the same effect on him as it had on you because he's hard and - _oh._

 _Right there._

"Yes." you whimper, again. "Oh God, yes." 

He rolls his hips again, rubbing and nudging against you through your clothes. He groans, moving again, harder this time. He presses insistently against the ache, rubbing and sliding until you feel tears stinging your eyes. It hurts so good to have him there. 

"Yes," it's a whisper, this time. "So good." 

"You like that?" 

"Harder." 

He moves again, a sharp jut of his hips against yours and you both make feral noises. It doesn't take him long to set a good pace and he's rutting against you from behind. You shift your weight onto one elbow and reach your hand back to grab at whatever you can reach, which happens to be a thigh. 

His hard, toned thigh. 

"Need you, Chris." you gasp. 

"Your wish is my command, baby girl." he mumbles in your ear, reaching for the button of his jeans. 

It takes him all of two seconds to free his erection and practically tear your shorts and underwear off before he's buried inside of you. You moan as he fills you and his hips move in slow, torturous circles. You fist the sheets and bite back a loud moan until you hear his command. "Let me hear you." 

You can't do anything but whimper. 

It continues on in this manner until you're shuddering around him, practically coming apart, and he's not far behind you. Jerking erratically and groaning against your shoulder as he falls over that edge with you. He collapses beside you, and grins when you wiggle under his arm and collapse on his sticky, sweaty chest. 

"That was one hell of a backrub, baby." you murmur quietly, already half-asleep as the scent of Chris' cologne and his soap lulls you to sleep. You're completely exhausted, thanks to Chris, and your deadline is the furthest thing from your mind. 

"Anything for my girl." he kisses the top of your head, his hand working in soothing circles against your scalp. 

When you finally wake up, the next afternoon, Chris is still in your apartment. You know this because you hear the TV playing in the living room. When you finally manage to drag out of bed and into a pair of clean underwear and one of his shirts you swiped the last time he was here, you trudge into the living room to find him on the couch, and a spread of Chinese food in front of him. 

"Chris?" 

"Hey, baby." he looks at you over his shoulder. "Come on. I ordered your favorite food." 

"Thank you." You smile, making your way to the couch. "Coffee?" 

"Kitchen." 

You nod, rubbing your eyes as you head for the kitchen. Only you stop and backtrack. There's something different. You turn to look at him, face wrinkled in confusion. "Chris?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Did you...clean?" 

He blushes and admits that he did take the time to straighten up and do your laundry while you were out cold. The Chinese food is cold by the time you get to it and you may never let him leave your apartment. 

Ever.

 

 

 


End file.
